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I may have tried to ignore her over the years, but a fantasy or two had crept in, unfortunately, and while having them made it more difficult to be around her, they’d kept me hot. They’d kept me angry and ready.

I held my head up, looking down at her. “Do you still have school uniforms here?”

She cocked her head just a little, looking suspicious before she nodded.

“Go get one on.” I brought my hands up, running them up and down her arms. “Everything. The tie, the vest, the skirt, everything.”

“Why?”

I smiled to myself, stepping aside to let her go to the stairs. “Because you can’t win if you don’t play.”

She glared, and I gave her a light slap on the ass, urging her up the stairs.

The longer we talked, the more I’d come to my senses. Or the more her half-naked in front of me would just make me take her right here on the floor.

And I had something better in mind.

“WHAT ARE WE DOING?” she asked, peering out the windshield. “Why are we here?”

I pulled up in front of St. Killian’s, the headlights shining in the darkness and landing on the broken stained glass windows and the eerie blackness inside. The dilapidated stone of the structure was surrounded by fallen autumn leaves, and the only sound was the wind howling through the trees overhead.

My stomach knotted with anticipation, and a drop of sweat glided down my back.

This was my favorite place.

It was weighted with history and filled with a thousand corners and small spaces. As a kid, I’d climbed around inside, exploring and getting lost for hours.

I shut off the car, the headlights going dead, and I stepped out, the smell of earth drifting through my nostrils. This place felt more like home than any other.

Slamming the door shut, I gripped my mask in my hand and watched Rika climb out of the G-Class. Her nervous eyes kept glancing up at the dark and silent cathedral, and her chest rose and fell faster.

She was scared. Good.

I let my eyes fall down her outfit once again, having got a good look before we left the house, too.

She wore her navy-blue and forest-green plaid shirt and a white blouse fitted with a matching plaid tie under a navy-blue vest. On her feet were black flats. She’d even combed out her hair and put on a little make-up to freshen up.

I think she had an idea of what was in store when I told her to wear the outfit, but she was definitely surprised when I told her to get in the car.

And now…a little frightened.

I gazed at her legs, my cocking swelling at the memory of how smooth they were and how warm it was between them.

My heart started to race.

“Let’s go down to the catacombs.” I nodded toward the cathedral. “No blindfold this time.”

I smirked, keeping my expression hard. I didn’t want her to feel safe.

She dropped her chin, searching the ground for a way out. Should she say no? Should she ask another question I wasn’t going to answer?

Or would she play?

She raised her eyes and swallowed, a look of defiance crossing her face. And I held back a smile, seeing her turn and start walking toward the side entrance.

Lifting up the mask, I slid it down over my face and walked slowly behind her. Stalking, not following.

I stared at her back, taking step after step, slow and steady as she walked briskly, stumbling over rocks and uneven ground. She twisted her head, looking over shoulder, and her face fell, taking notice of the mask.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance